A Dream Aloud
by with-etoiles
Summary: "It's my dreams. This first term while Kurt's been away at NYADA… I haven't told him, but it's been kind of rough on me."  Or otherwise a Kurt in New York and Blaine coping fic with appearances by Cooper Anderson


A/N: I drew heavy inspiration for this fic from the song the title is taken from, _Sweet Disposition_ by_ the Temper Trap_. Also, this is me trying to rid myself of my writing block. As for the fic, there are some original characters, just a warning for anyone that doesn't like that, and also huge spoilers for 3x15 (the existence of a certain person that may or may not be related to Blaine...)!

_A moment of love, a dream aloud, a kiss, a cry, our rights, our wrongs_

_**A Moment of Love**_

"I used to call you 'bright eyes', did you know that?"

"Mmm," Kurt responded lazily, lifting his head gently from Blaine's shoulder. The room was quiet and meticulously clean, a fireplace burning idly to the front of their touching skin. Warm tones of reds and greens floated off the walls. Only the gentle cohesion of their breathing and a slight crackle every now and then pierced the silence. "Did you now?"

"In my head. When I first met you, before you told me your name. Even a little after." Blaine marveled internally at how Kurt's eyebrows shot up languidly, a smile lighting his lips. In the background, the flame jumped in unison. Blaine thanked every star in this galaxy that his parents weren't home, that they were off on a business trip, and he was allowed to be here with Kurt, like this. Just the two of them, the thoughts on their minds enough to occupy the huge house and more.

"When we met, eh?" Kurt started singing quietly. "_You make me_ _feel like I'm living a teenage dream."_

"_The way you turn me on," _Blaine continued, a reticent smile on his lips, "_I can't sleep, let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back_."

Kurt smiled another lazy grin.

"_Before you met me, I was alright, but things were kinda heavy-"_

"_Kurt you brought me to life, now every look I throw you, you know it's yours to keep ,cuz' I'm complete."_

"You know, _Mr. Anderson_, you are really quite charming and you're not good at romance my ass. You're still amazing at it."

"You still remember that?"

"Of course."

There was a quiet for a few moments.

It pressed down on them softly, except it was a liberating type of quiet. The kind of quiet that made it easier to think, the kind of quiet that just made things make sense.

"I like this," Blaine said after a brief moment of discreet breathing and Kurt's head once again on his shoulder.

"'Course you do- we're together. We haven't been like that in so long."

"It has been such a long time…" he muttered. Suddenly he grabbed Kurt's hand.

"Kurt, oh Kurt, how do you like New York? Is it all the bright lights and white futures you imagined it to be?"

"It's_ everything_ I thought it would be, you know that from our Skype talks and phone calls and, dare I add another to the list, text conversations."

Blaine laughed impatiently, shifting his smile skywards.

"I know that, but _Kurt_, how do you like it? How do you fit in there?"

Now it was Kurt's turn to shift, and he did so to face himself towards Blaine and pat his hand. Blaine perked up like a puppy.

"_I love it there. _So much. And the best part is that I can actually see myself in the street lights at night, in the flurries of snow in the winter, in the mountains of work I do and the papers I have to suffer through day in and day out, but mostly in the way that I can go places. There are auditions for a part in a local theater, my theater friends and I go out on the street and sing to random strangers, there are agents and people to know and places to see!"

"How's NYADA? Tell me _everything."_

"I've already told you, and that, my dear Blaine, is called redundancy, which is something I don't allow time for in my life."

"-unless it's success," Blaine tacked on.

"Unless it's success," he repeated.

The fire sunk into the depths of the wood, and a chill settled itself through the room.

"Tell me again," Blaine murmured while hooking his fingers in the scarf Kurt had kept on and tugging him closer. He pulled it off and planted kisses along his neck. "I want to know."

"Blaine…" he hummed gently.

"I haven't heard your voice so clear in such a while," he crooned into Kurt's ear. "It's been all static and blurs and blips in the audio. It's so nice to hear it smooth and, uninterrupted, and most importantly, distinctly _here_, next to me."

Kurt gave a small sigh, but Blaine's heart silently bounded up and down, feeling a bit treasonous in his chest. He knew Kurt was going to do what he asked anyways. That was the beautiful thing about their relationship; they were both just so _whipped _for each other. He hoped against hope it would stay that way.

"NYADA, unlike New York, is not really what I thought it would be. I expected a dream, a cultural whiplash, you know- the like. But really, it's more. I can't imagine myself going to any other school now. It's just so comfortable and open and all the while, I know I'm in this dream city, and I know that I did it. I know that I made it."

"Kurt…" Kurt had turned his head and with a shock, realized he had closed his eyes as he envisioned the campus and the speckled glows and beams. When he turned back, he was greeted by Blaine's eyes, mere inches from his and that glow within them that was so particularly Blaine it made Kurt clutch absently at his torso.

"You say you called me 'bright eyes', but right now your eyes are contesting heavily for that title!"

"Like the New York lights?" Blaine asked him.

"Are we doing this again?" Kurt deadpanned.

An endearing smile met his joking tone.

"Yes, like the New York lights."

"That has to be the best thing you have ever said to me."

Again, the comfortable silence settled down on their heads for a few moments. Then Kurt's phone buzzed.

They both looked down and ignored it.

It buzzed again.

Ignorance.

Yet, Kurt knew this task couldn't be ignored forever. Grimacing, he slid the phone out of his pocket and started to enter the password.

"Lemme do it," Blaine said, swiping the phone with an attempted laugh.

"No, Blaine, really… you know what it's going to say…"

"It's okay, I know there's always next time."

"But Blaine, I don't want to-"

"-But you have to."

"I-"

"It's okay Kurt, I got it." He finished typing in the password and slid the bar at the bottom of the screen. A light blue box appeared in front of a screensaver of him and Kurt in his junior year. _This was from graduation, _he thought absentmindedly. Thinking about it almost made his eyes well up again, so before he could stare any longer at the pair of them, Kurt clad in ridiculous black robes (with the outline of a pin Blaine had given him a week earlier, shaped like a small coffee cup that Kurt had thought was extremely tacky but had worn anyways, poking through his robes) and Blaine, street clothes hanging almost sadly off of his frame (He was sure they were yearning to be graduation robes instead; he knew that's what _he_ wanted them to be.), he focused on the pop up.

A short reminder was contained in the light blue box. Blaine silently braced himself, feeling Kurt tense beside him, and then read:

_Leave for flight back to New York._

_**A Dream Aloud**_

_This isn't real, _Blaine thought as he observed the scene before him. Kurt was walking towards him, surrounded by chiffons of pure white, milky skies enveloping his figure. But his figure still marched onwards, an incessant movement against the stagnant.

As he came closer, white skies faded into rainbow illuminations, harsh glows and dark skyscrapers and posters with prismatic color schemes. There was something different about him, Blaine realized. His face was more mature, worry lines more prominent, and there was a malignant smirk there he had never quite seen on his lips before, and Blaine was almost certain, were he to kiss him them, that he would be have been able to taste something corrupt like that, if been brewing inside of Kurt as long as Blaine had a sneaky suspicion it had been.

With stout determination he walked to meet Kurt in the distance, billows of light jumping around them as he drew closer.

"Kurt!" he yelled out to him, all of a sudden feeling significantly tiny among the largeness of the city.

"Kurt!" Still no response; the porcelain boy seemed to stare right through him.

"Dammit, Kurt! It's me, Blaine!"

On the close of the last syllable, Kurt's legs seemed to kick into motion, and he mechanically began to make his way to Blaine.

Blaine took no time in throwing himself at him, grasping his flesh tightly in a hope that he would never, ever have to let it go now.

"Kurt, I'm here! I made it too! My applications, they were accepted, and it was really hard to choose but I boiled it down to about two schools here, and when I finally made my decision-"

But Blaine stopped, because although he didn't want to, he could notice how Kurt's mind was translucent, how he wasn't even really paying attention to a word he said.

"Kurt? Are you here with me right now?"

Blaine knew everything was wrong when Kurt's breathing hitched and a look of confusion burrowed itself in his features.

"Blaine? Do I know a Blaine?"

Angry tears welled up in his eyes and his head pounded furiously.

"Do you know a Blaine?" He repeated in disbelief. Of _course_ he had forgotten him. In this stupid city of dreams and promises and glamour, how could he not?

"You don't remember a Blaine." What was he but a roughed up shadow of a person next to Kurt's dazzling star?

"No, I'm sorry, I don't."

"_You don't remember."_

Just as he was about to further protest this strange twist of fate, the world suddenly started shifting on its axis, and the lights abruptly fluttered around him in a chaotic flurry. Buildings began smashing into the ground, and all throughout it was a concentrated silence. Kurt's voice grew smaller as the visual bedlam grew larger, and the pain in Blaine's head kept becoming more intense and intense until he spoke again.

"You didn't forget me; you couldn't have!"

Skyscrapers loomed over his short figure.

"Did you?"

Colors began to adjust themselves.

"You did."

But suddenly what was bright was now mute, and Blaine began to reenter the conscious world to find a stranger's hands on his arms. Shaking him. Muttering something. Shaking again.

"Blaine, buddy, are you alright?"

Through his foggy sleep induced vision he made out a tall, brunette figure.

"Bro?"

Blaine blinked a couple of times.

The tall brunette inhaled.

"Thank the Lord, I thought you were dead for a moment too long!"

As though his senses were being sharpened, he finally recognized the tall figure.

"Coo-Cooper?"

"In the flesh!" He panned a gesture over his torso.

"When did you get here?"

"You've been sleeping all day! I got here around two in the afternoon, and thus have been making use of my school's extended winter vacation." He winked. "What about you? Why were you sleeping so late?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure."

"Wild night, huh? " He grinned broadly." Courtesy of who?"

Blaine blushed despite the immaturity of it all. "You know about Kurt, correct?"

"'Course I know about Kurt, I think you've blabbered enough about him to me on the phone for anyone's liking."

Blaine frowned, which found Cooper quickly backtracking.

"Just kidding! I really do want to hear any new developments. Are you and Kurt still going strong?"

"Kurt's off in New York right now," he responded bluntly.

"Long distance, ouch." Cooper winced, and then pulled Blaine into an embrace. "Is it particularly hard on you right now?"

Despite Blaine's usual flinch from most endearment concerning his family, he found he could always feel safe leaning into Cooper's. Cooper was really an enigma to him, fitting into all of the right boxes to become the homophobic, popular football player who should've despised Blaine's existence and his subsequent contamination of his reputation, but he was different. When Blaine had come out, Cooper had said and done nothing but pulled him into a hug. No fruitless words of encouragement, but no words of harsh nature either. Just a simple touch, a slight pressure on his body to tell him he was welcome somewhere. That had meant the world to Blaine.

"Usually I would lie for your peace of mind or Dad's or Mom's, you know."

"But you're not going to lie," he responded knowingly.

Blaine sighed. "Nope."

Cooper waited, holding Blaine in an almost fatherly grasp. A few moments later, Blaine disentangled himself from Cooper and plopped back down on the bed.

"It's my dreams. This first term while Kurt's been away at NYADA… I haven't told him, but it's been kind of rough on me."

"In what way?" Cooper asked quietly.

"I keep feeling like he's going to find _the one_ in New York. I know the things we've said to each other, and the things we've done with each other, but I feel like that's all just kept here."

Blaine felt the pressure balance on the bed imbalance as Cooper sat down next to him, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"Little bro, you're honestly amazing. If Kurt thinks someone else in New York is better than you, especially if you've been through as much together as you said, he'd need to be placed in an asylum pronto. Your Kurt's not crazy. He loves you. And by the way you talk about him, you love him too. So what's there to worry about?"

"It's _New York_, Cooper! _New York!_ Everything's better in New York, and it's where Kurt's always dreamed of going and now he's finally there! What allure am I going to be holding for him when he's there with all the cute New York boys and the amazing New York things and New York in general?"

"Well, hasn't he already been there for a term? And he's still been loyal?"

"Yes, but-"

"-But nothing, Blaine. He loves you, and you love him. I can tell that about you guys and I've barely even met the boy! But if he's stayed faithful to you so far, a little longer in New York won't hurt him. And soon you'll be there too, remember? My little bro's gonna be in this fantastic dream city too."

"Do you really believe I can make it there?" Blaine asked, meekly looking down.

"Blaine…" Cooper trailed off, getting up and walking around his room. He came across a picture of Kurt on Blaine's bookshelves and stopped.

"So this is him, huh?"

Blaine nodded.

"This is a picture of you together, his graduation day, right?"

He nodded again. He was glad he and Kurt both had the same picture of each other up in their rooms and on their respective things. It was a little reminder that even a little bit of his presence was there with Kurt wherever he went, if he physically couldn't be there.

Cooper grabbed it. "Look how happy you two look."

Blaine started to shake his head, because what really was the point of this? Kurt was still there and he was still here and no matter how happy they were then they couldn't be nearly as happy apart.

"Do you think this type of happiness can go away just because of a stupid city?"

"It's not a stu-"

"-But it's also not as much as you make it out to be."

"But is it as much as Kurt makes it out to be?"

Cooper shook his head. "I think that the core nature of a person just wants happiness. Do you think this isn't happiness? It sure looks like it to me, and if- "

"-But New York can make him happier!"

"-and if he's willing to leave this kind of happiness for something a piece of crowded land can give him, he's not the guy you _know_ he is."

Blaine was ready to offer a quick rebuttal, but surprisingly nothing sprung to his tongue. That was the nice thing about Cooper, he could craft himself an almost foolproof argument. Blaine used to tell him all of the time that he'd be an amazing lawyer, but football had remained his true passion and he had ended up pursuing that. Still, had Blaine ever needed a backup in an argument, he wouldn't hesitate to get Cooper on the job.

"Thanks Coop."

He smiled, big and inclusive and exactly like Blaine had remembered his smile to be.

"No prob, little bro."

_**A Kiss**_

Kurt stared at the piece of paper in his hand, his favorite professor's handwriting all over it.

_Kurt, I have good news for you! I'd like to deliver this in person and watch you flail, but alas, I am forced by a business appointment to deliver the news in print. You got the part you auditioned for! Congratulations! You can go over there and pick up the script now, if you'd like; I will be putting up the casting list soon!_

It wasn't signed by his professor, but Kurt could recognize the handwriting instantly anyways. With a brief squeal and a look to both his sides to make sure no one was watching, he ran towards the relatively small room by which a casting list was hung.

_Kurt Hummel: Hamlet_

They were putting on a non-traditional production of Hamlet, tweaking, adding, and removing scenes to fit their vision. He knew it was Shakespeare they were dealing with, but it was a highly effective way to utilize and strain their creativities, preparing them for real world casting situations in real plays, where they were required to get to know their character thoroughly. It wasn't a musical, which was Kurt's best medium, but he knew that his singing could easily be worked on; it was his acting that needed the work. This was a unique opportunity, one Kurt had been internally raving about since the idea was first proposed by a fellow classmate. That was another thing he found endlessly refreshing here, the student body. They were allowed to thrive off of creativity and passion, and ideas were never ridiculed, no matter how ridiculous they could initially sound.

Heading into the classroom, Kurt met his professor. He was sitting down on a piano bench, tapping out a light melody.

"Professor Rhine, I didn't expect you to be here!"

"Good to see you, Kurt! I suspect you're here to receive the script?"

Kurt shrugged, almost bashful.

"I guess you know me too well."

He laughed. "I don't blame you for coming early! My note must've sent you into jitters."

"You have no idea," Kurt replied.

Kurt stood there for a few moments, trying to reign in his anxiety.

After a few moments of Professor Rhine organizing his papers, he spoke.

"You're doing this on purpose."

"What?" Kurt thought he saw the shadow of a wink.

"Withholding my script."

"Oh, the script! That little thing." He laughed quietly and grabbed it off the top of the piano. _It was right there the entire time, _Kurt thought, internally shaking his head.

"Thank you, Professor!"

"No problem, Kurt! Get to memorizing those lines!"

So, wasting no further time, Kurt opened the thick packet and flipped through, noting stage directions and imagining wardrobe corresponding to scenes. He liked the way it looked when he flipped through the packet quickly, letting the papers fall over each other in their haste to be the center of attention. It made him think of the hierarchy in society, how they often acted like that, him being no exception. He hadn't had to have done that for this part. It was easy. Simple. He didn't have to fight to prove his worth like in McKinley, all he had to do was audition, and that was that.

Going back a second time to pore over each scene, he realized how they're measly additions to the scenes made it all flow better. He liked how they had added lines to supplement characterization, had analyzed scene to determine movements, had spent hours determining the tone of voice that should be used in a particular scene. He particularly liked the way they had expanded on Ophelia's characterization, expanded on her interactions with mainly Hamlet and other more minor characters.

They had added a brief scene depicting Hamlet and Ophelia's relationship, significantly before Ophelia went mad. It took place in Hamlet's quarters, and it was only those two characters in the scene, kissing passionately and muttering peals of defeat between breaths.

Kurt's phone rang just then, and he closed the script to answer the call.

"Blaine! Hey!"

"Hey Kurt, can you get on Skype?"

"Sure."

_**A Cry**_

Blaine waited patiently for Kurt's name to appear online on Skype. He was supposed to have gotten the results for the casting in this production of Hamlet he had been singing praises of today, and although Blaine was sure Kurt was going to text him immediately after he got the news, he wanted to see his face in person.

Finally Kurt appeared online, and Blaine clicked "start a video call".

The first thing Blaine's gaze was drawn to was Kurt's eyes, which seemed to be sparkling even in the dimly lit setting of his room.

And even before Kurt could get a word in edgewise, Blaine started babbling.

"You got Hamlet, didn't you? I know you did. I know. Tell me you did, because I know there's no possible way that you-"

Kurt brought his hand up and seemed to smack the camera, smiling. "Blaine, I'm not going to answer you if you don't let me talk."

He pouted, but otherwise stayed quiet for several too long moments.

"I got it," Kurt divulged after the silence stretched just long enough for Blaine to start shifting uncomfortably on his bed. "I got it, I got it."

"I knew you did!" Blaine blew him a kiss. "And that's my totally non-cheesy way of saying that I'd make out with you right now if you were not so far away."

"Love you too, boo, and quite frankly I miss those lips of yours." There was a moment's pause. "I miss you."

"I don't think you know how much I miss you right now, and honestly, if you did you might be a little freaked out."

He smiled, diffident. "I dream of you. Nothing creepier than that."

Blaine laughed. "As do I, as do I. What do you dream about me?"

Suddenly Kurt ducked away, a hand rubbing over his bare neck and his face carefully concealed. "Nothing much, just what comes with missing you. But I'm curious, what do you dream about _me_?"

"I…" Blaine wasn't sure how much to tell him, but he knew that they were always completely honest in their relationship with each other, so he forced himself to continue talking.

Kurt had noticed the pause that was a tick of the clock too long.

"Blaine? You know we can tell each other anything."

"Yeah, I know," Blaine replied, suddenly embarrassed he even considered hiding it from Kurt.

"I… I dream about you in New York. You in New York enjoying anything and everything there is to enjoy. I dream about you buying ice cream from a vendor on the corner of the street, attending plays on Broadway, interacting with the locals in ways you never could here… and that's most of the time. Most of the time, I dream about you having the time of your life. Except, sometimes, I want to be there too. And suddenly you're still out there having the time of your life, but I'm stuck here in Lima. And then I've graduated and I'm ready to join your side in New York except… except…"

"Except?" Kurt prodded gently, the softness of it barely penetrating Blaine's monologue.

"Except… you don't remember me, and you never did."

"Blaine…"

"I know it's ridiculous, and I know you'd never do it. Except I can never get the image of some guy brushing his lips against the ones that are only mine to do so, you making out with some female lead, you being charmed by this guy, you realizing that even though I was a big deal to you in Lima, you're in New York now and you want to leave your past behind, and you don't need me anymore. Instead there's some more brilliant, more attractive New York guy waiting on your doorstep, and what purpose do I have?"

"Blaine," Kurt almost cooed, "You know that'd never happen."

"Except I keep imagining it _will,_ and I can't do anything to stop that!" He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then hastily grabbed a box of tissues from his nightstand. "You can't honestly tell me no one's ever tempted you before? That you've never been in a position where you have to make out with another lead? I bet you have to do it for Hamlet!"

"Well, yes, I do… there's a scene we added with Ophelia…"

"And I'm close to breaking here, Kurt!" He gasped out, a little exasperated. "I know it's not your fault, but you've left, I'm stuck in a homophobic school for another year, and there's always the chance that the only person I'm still there in that school for is off frolicking with his coworkers, or another guy that I'm not!"

Almost immediately after Blaine's outburst, Kurt cut in with his own. "I can't help that, Blaine!" Blaine looked back up at the camera, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open, like he had been caught in a situation he couldn't have helped. It reminded Kurt of how he had looked that desolate day at Scandals… "I've been without you for half of a year now, and I'm still here! Can't you see that? You're being irrational."

"Irrational?"

"If I'm being honest with you, yes." Kurt hated the way Blaine seemed to shrink into himself, but he continued. "This is going to happen all of the time if I make it, and you know that."

"When," Blaine corrected on an offbeat undercurrent, tiny and helpless against Kurt's huge star blinding him again.

"This isn't happening!" Kurt interjected, seemingly oblivious to Blaine's correction. "I thought you were more mature than to get jealous."

"_Me _not mature enough? I don't think you liked it too well when- well never mind, that doesn't matter now."

He stared steadily at the camera. "When what Blaine?"

"You know what, it doesn't matter, and I'm sorry, I _am_ being too overbearing. We're past high school."

"Well," he added after a few beats, "you are."

"What does that mean?"

He took a steadying breath. "Well, it means that you're better at this than me."

"We just had a fight and you're telling me I'm better at this than you," Kurt repeated sarcastically.

"Yes."

"Blaine…"

"Look, you know I love you so damn much, right?"

"Oh God, I don't know if I like where this is going."

"I," he shifted, "I just don't want to do this anymore."

"Specify 'what'."

When there was no answer, Kurt started panicking.

"I'm not kidding Blaine, specify what this fucking instant or so help me God."

"Are you sure I'm not holding you back?" he finally replied.

"Oh, _Blaine_, we've been over this. Not in the least bit. I love you; I could never love anybody else but you. Even here."

"I just don't want you to deny temptations maybe you shouldn't deny for me…"

"You're enough, Blaine," his hands were frantic as they thrashed chaotically, "What temptations would there be here for me anyways?"

"I don't know, boys that are much more handsome and funny and intelligent than I am, who have more experience and more future for you than I could ever offer you?"

"You do realize you sound ridiculous, right?"

"I know I do, but that's what goes through my head nowadays. You are literally my _everything_ now, Kurt. I count the days towards graduation so I can be with you before someone steals you away."

"No one's going to steal me away."

"You say that now, but I may not be the one for you, and you may find that one there, you know."

"Listen to me Blaine, _there's no one else for me but you_."

"I know but… I just need a break."

"From us?" Kurt asked incredulously, hoping against hope that his instinct was wrong.

There were several long moments of silence crackling between the lines and Blaine just staring off into the distance.

"Not from us, exactly," he began tentatively, "but the communication. Can we leave each other alone for a while?"

"Blaine, not talking is not going to solve anything…"

"I know, and I'm being irrational again, but I need this. Can you please just… for me?"

Kurt couldn't deny those sad, confused eyes.

"For how long?" he relented quietly.

"I just… I need to clear my head. Talking to you… it just reminds me. And I… I need a break from that. Just for a week or two?"

"That's going to be the longest week of my life," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"Mine too," Blaine replied, evidently having heard Kurt. "You just need to see what New York can offer without me."

"I don't want to," Kurt asserted stubbornly.

"But _I_ want you to," he replied.

"You're insane, Blaine Anderson."

"Please? We're not breaking up, I promise."

"I'm only doing this because you, for some ridiculous reason, want me to. Or else I'd be glued to my phone and electronic devices to stay with you whichever way I can."

"Mmm," Blaine murmured halfheartedly in agreement.

"So," Kurt stated, hating the way his fingers shook on the trackpad of his laptop. "Are you going to hang up or should I?"

He hesitated. "I… I don't know."

"Me neither."

"We always do this when we talk to each other," Kurt said after a few moments of silence.

"We do," Blaine replied.

More crackling.

"I… I'll do it," Blaine finally ended up saying. "By-bye Kurt."

"Bye Blaine."

Taking a heavy breath, he clicked "end call" and after a too fast heartbeat, Kurt's face had disappeared from his screen. Really, he amended, from his life for the next few weeks. It was going to hurt like hell, but Blaine just wanted to do what was best for Kurt. They say that if you really love someone to let them go, so that's what he was going to do. He didn't want Kurt to worry about how he would react when he had to be with this coworker or do things with that coworker, or to isolate Kurt in any way. This was his chance, he was out of this rotten town and on to bigger and better things, and if his nightmares were to realize themselves, it would happen now, before he got there. He had faith in Kurt and his word, but these dreams were wearing him down. He wanted, craved, _needed_ the best for Kurt, which didn't necessarily equate to the best for him. Besides, he reasoned, this was probably going to hurt more for him anyways.

_**Our Rights**_

"Oh, Kurt, there you are!"

"Hi Amelia," Kurt responded; Amelia was the spunky redhead who had been casted as Ophelia opposite his Hamlet. This meant that they had already spent many hours together rehearsing, and he had actually taken quite a liking to her.

"I have someone to introduce you to," she whispered conspiratorially, wiggling her finger at him. "C'mere."

"Um, Amelia, you do know that I have-"

"This is Mason," she said, dragging a boy out from behind the corner. He was fairly tall, with brilliant green eyes and chestnut hair, smiling sheepishly behind Amelia.

"Hello, Mason," he greeted, all the while desperately trying to send a signal to Amelia that they needed to talk alone, preferably now.

"I'll leave you two alone to talk," she whispered, placing a hand on and shaking both their shoulders playfully. "See you later Kurt!" she yelled over her shoulder.

"Bye," he muttered, dissatisfied, before turning back to see Mason smiling at him apologetically.

"Sorry about her," he comforted, "my sister is nothing short of bold and slightly obnoxious in everything she does."

"No worries, Mason! She's the greatest, really."

"So…" he trailed off, flicking his eyes from Kurt to the wall every few seconds. "I wanted to ask you something, but it's not exactly what Amelia made it out to be."

Kurt laughed in relief. "Anything is welcome after I thought I would have to endure an extremely awkward conversation of telling you that I was, in fact, already in love with my lovely boyfriend back in Lima, Ohio and eagerly awaiting his graduation and our reunion."

"Lima?" Mason asked; Kurt thought he saw something flash in his eye.

"Wasn't the best place to be the only out kid in school," he replied matter of factly.

"You don't seem upset at all," Mason observed, all the while quietly watching him.

"I'm not really. It was horrid, and painful, very painful, but I made it through, and now I'm here! I don't like to dwell on the past much, not anymore."

"That's really a very positive outlook; I wish I could think like that."

"Was your high school experience similar?" Kurt asked, his voice lowering instinctively, feeling the urge to wrap this relative stranger up in his arms and protect him from the world and how he was hurt by it.

"No," he started out boldly, but soon his voice faded like Kurt's. "But that's only because I haven't come out yet."

Kurt felt a small disquiet in his voice, something else yearning to come out, so he waited and gazed patiently at Mason.

"I know what it was like for those at our school who were already out, and I told myself I was going to preserve myself no matter what happened, so I did." For a moment Kurt thought he was going to stop there, but after a brief moment of pause he continued. "I tried to ignore boys; I tried to deny my feelings, but soon it became too much."

"There was this… there was this one boy I met in the 11th grade. I remember how I felt when I first looked at him. I felt something stir within me, the thing I had been trying so hard to suppress."

He paused. "Too much?"

"No," Kurt breathed, as if not to disturb the gentleness of the story. "Please continue."

So he did, and did so with a wider smile. "I wrestled with those feelings for a very long while, trying to avoid him at all costs, except he had quite literally captivated me. I still remember the way his eyes looked that day, hazy and dreamy, startling earthy browns that made me feel at home. He had been daydreaming, he told me later."

"We had been partnered up one day for an English project. The more we hung out, the harder it became to resist him. We laughed, we flirted, we did all those things best friends on the verge of intimacy do. Except people began to notice us hanging out so much; they noticed how we looked at each other and how we acted around each other. That's when things became dangerous."

"One day, when he was about to head off to his math class, he stopped behind a pillar and pulled me behind with him. 'I like you,' he had stated, 'Do you like me too?'"

"I tried to blow off my answer with casualty, so I responded 'Yeah, of course.' But he wouldn't take casualty, and he clearly saw I meant more than just simply liking him as a friend. So he kissed me right there, before I could object or look around. It was a quick, gentle peck, because before we could get any further… someone saw us."

His breath became a little more concentrated. "Someone saw us, and then pretty soon a lot of people were seeing us, and then I felt the overwhelming pressure to flee. So I did. And as rumors about us fled around the school, I stopped acting so in love with him. I wanted him to think I didn't love him anymore so he could maybe get over me, and maybe save himself from those rumors and their realization."

"And so," he puffed out into the lengthy silence, "the entire idea of us I had been building in my head stopped… We stopped. After becoming too frustrated with me, he moved on. He never dated anyone else that year or the following year, and I don't know where he is now."

"And, so, what I wanted to ask of you," he began, fixing his gaze back on Kurt, "was how you were so brave in your school."

Kurt began to object, but he waved it off.

"You _were_ brave, braver than I could've ever been. I know a little bit from Amelia, and I've heard about the bullying you suffered."

"I kind of just wanted to meet you," he continued, "and hopefully get some advice from you. I'm still not out, only you and Amelia know. And I know I'm in New York, and I shouldn't still be afraid to come out… but I am, and it frustrates me to no end that I can't deal with that! I shouldn't feel the phantom presence of the whisperings and the looks and the _fear. _I know it's not the same here, but I just… I can't shake that feeling… that I was always in danger. That I still am."

"How about this," Kurt started slowly, "I don't want to have a conversation this personal in a hallway, but I really do want to have it. Take my number, and we can work out sometime to meet and talk."

Mason punched the numbers into his phone as Kurt recited them, looking significantly less nervous.

"And Mason?"

He looked up, hope building castles in his eyes.

"Do you still love him?"

"I don't know…" he trailed off.

"You should try to get in contact with him again."

"But what if he refuses to?"

"You should at least explain why you did what you did, and he might understand, and who knows what will happen from there?"

He smiled, a small little forlorn smile to himself. "I might try."

"Call or text me whenever; I'll always be glad to talk."

His mouth seemed to struggle to form the right consonants as he tried to formulate a response. "I… I'm glad you understand."

Kurt smiled encouragingly. "It's no problem, really."

_**Our Wrongs**_

The calendar on his desk in his dorm room was left recently untouched. Where he had once pored over it with a fat red sharpie, eager to cross off the days until Blaine's self-imposed isolation period was over, he now subconsciously tossed it aside to get to a note on his desk.

_Tonight. I'm not backing out. - Mason_

Kurt squealed, taking up the note and brandishing it in his hands. He hoped Mason's parents weren't too homophobic, but Mason hadn't mentioned much of that when they had talked.

Mason talked of the fear, mostly. How he couldn't get rid of the sensation that he was back in high school, the looks, of how he looked at every stranger on the street and thought, _what if they had their secrets exposed to the world? How is it fair to ask that of any of us?_

The weeks had passed as Kurt listened to Mason talk out his misery, talk of his love for Garrett, the boy he had told Kurt about the first time they met. Kurt once again marveled at the people and the things New York offered for him, knowing Blaine would enjoy it even more than he did. But as the weeks flashed by, Blaine faded to the back of his mind as crises arose with Mason. He had promised Kurt he would call Garrett soon; he still had his number. But the real problem was the one thing he had wanted to tidy up first. He wanted to tell his parents of his sexuality. Which meant he was even more on the edge these days, afraid everything was going to erupt on him the moment he spoke the words.

Mason said he felt like he had a solid relationship with his parents, one that he often stopped to think about earlier, of how unique it was. He had a loving support system, shouldn't that be enough? Yet it was the threat of that collapsing, he said, that was the scariest part. It wasn't talking to Garrett again, it wasn't baring himself out to everyone else who met him as something different, as if he had to label himself as "gay" to warn people. It wasn't the inherent stereotypes in that or the unfair expectations they had to deal with that upset him. It was losing that love that he had held onto for so long, the love that he had clinged to for as long as he could remember when things got rough. It was that threat that stopped him dead in his tracks whenever he tried to force the words out.

A barrage of pings sounded from the other side of his room, so Kurt, thinking only idly of what they could say, got up to check them. As he started reading his jaw fell, and he set to work responding, his fingers tapping away at the screen.

_Mason: Kurt._

_Mason: Kurt,_

_Mason: Kurt, help me._

_Mason: I can't do this. _

_Mason: Help._

Kurt pressed send, feeling significantly nervous for Mason.

_Kurt: You__**can**__ do this, Mason. Believe in yourself!_

_Mason: What if it goes wrong?_

_Kurt: Ah, but what if it goes right?_

_Kurt: Everything will go just fine._

_Mason: I'm scared._

_Kurt: It's okay to be scared. I know that feeling all too well._

_Mason: I don't know if I can do this._

_Kurt: I'll be here for you, for emotional support._

_Mason: Okay, I'm going. _

_Mason: Walking towards them._

_Mason: Going…_

_Mason: God, my stomach feels like it's on fire._

_Mason: I'm not going to back out this time._

_Mason: Like it's roiling in flames or something._

_Mason: No. I refuse to let myself back out._

_Mason: Wow._

_Mason: Okay._

_Mason: Going now._

_Mason: Here I go…_

He bit his lip, then sent one final text back.

_Kurt: I'm here for you. _

Kurt's phone fell silent, so he put it aside for now and opened up his laptop. It opened up to the picture of him and Blaine graduation day, the same picture he had as his phone background.

"Wait a minute," Kurt said out loud. His gaze fell hurriedly to the date.

"Shit…"

Snatching up his calendar, he prayed to whatever was up there that is had only been a few days… only a few days after he had stopped marking the dates. But his hope was brutally dashed as he looked at the calendar, seeing 9 neat red crosses. Then they stopped… 10 days shy of the current date.

"Oh God… _Blaine_."

He snatched his phone back up, and checked his inbox. No new messages. Blaine hadn't sent him anything even though the week, and even longer, had passed, and long passed really.

"Blaine…" he whispered to himself.

With a desperate hope that Blaine would be on, he opened up Skype and sighed in imminent relief when Blaine's named appeared.

He clicked and waited impatiently as the circle of dots in the center below "connecting" rotated endlessly on…

_**So stay there  
>Cause I'll be coming over<br>While our blood's still young  
>It's so young, it runs<br>We won't stop 'til it's over  
>Won't stop to surrender<strong>_

Blaine had just woken up from another bad dream, another dream involving Kurt… Kurt running… Kurt was always running… playing among the huge buildings and streets… where he belonged. And Blaine could never catch up, fate's crony always stunting him relentlessly along the way until he finally gave up, finally let Kurt run on his own. And he had done that, and now Kurt had forgotten about him. It didn't hurt so much when he thought about Kurt having a better life without him dragging him down, without having to worry about him or revisit the roots of his past. Kurt had moved past Lima and him, and Blaine was willing to accept that.

Cooper had come in earlier, the Friday of the second week, to comfort Blaine, carrying a large ice cream sundae he had made him after hearing how Kurt had passed the deadline without a word.

"Look what I have for you!" He had exclaimed, drawing attention to the cup of ice cream in his hands. "Don't worry, Blaine," he told him as he plopped down next to him and handed it to him, "I know he'll come around."

Blaine had simply groaned and leaned into Cooper's chest.

"God Coop, this hurts a lot more than I thought it would."

Cooper had smiled apologetically and repeated softly, "I know he'll come back around."

So when Blaine attempted to get up and his laptop rustled with the bed sheets, he froze in shock. A faint noise was coming from it… a louder noise now… "It couldn't be," he thought out loud. But it soon hit him that it was, and he nearly toppled over himself and firmly entangled himself in the sheets trying to answer the call.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then,

"Blaine!" Kurt called out, his voice shrill with panic.

"Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, I am so sorry!"

"You didn't… you're calling… I had thought…"

"You just woke up, didn't you?" Kurt observed, noticing his ruffled hair and somnolent eyes.

"I did, and you sound like you're screaming to me, but it's probably just the fact that I just woke up," Blaine answered slowly.

"I am being loud, because I want to get my point across. I'm sorry. I am _so, so_ sorry!"

"I…"

"No, let me talk first."

Blaine obeyed, blinking his eyes several times and sitting tight as he waited for Kurt to speak.

"I got busy. Distracted. I'm sorry."

"With what?"

"The person that got cast for Ophelia was my friend Amelia, and she introduced me to her brother."

For a brief moment an indescribable panic welled within Blaine's chest.

"But it's not like that, no no no, it's _definitely_ not like that." He sighed in relief, feeling the tension in his chest escape just as quickly as it came. "I made sure to establish that I was in love with my boyfriend back in Lima to him before we went anywhere in the way of conversation."

A smile spread across Blaine's lips, despite the fact that he almost had an eerie suspicion that this wasn't real either, just a figment of his imagination and he was still fast asleep. "And what did you two talk about?"

"He came to me for advice, although I have a feeling Amelia had a different kind of conversation for us two in mind." Kurt felt the wink flash across his face before he could stop it. He knew he was supposed to be serious right now, but it was so easy to still feel that natural and playful around Blaine that he found himself doing it without almost helping it.

"He wanted advice about coming out," Kurt continued. "In fact, he's going to come out to his parents tonight."

Blaine involuntarily winced.

"Blaine? I know I was wrong. And stupid. And idiotic. But I still love you; you know that right?"

"Yeah," Blaine responded, this time it being his turn for a smile to play out among his features. "I know."

"I just got so caught up in helping him… and I'm sorry."

"It's nice to hear an apology from for you for screwing up," he retorted playfully. "You don't screw up very often now, do you?"

Kurt laughed soundlessly, but quickly turned serious again. "Of course I do. But Blaine, why did you want us to stay away from each other?"

A very brief pause preceded his answer. "I thought my subconscious mind was right."

"Your dreams?"

"I genuinely thought I was holding you back, and I didn't want to do that. If you were going to forget me, it was bound to happen sooner than later, right?"

"It wasn't bound to happen at all," was Kurt's firm response.

"I know that now. But I just… I felt like I was a part of your past, and you deserve a future, Kurt! I didn't want to hold you back from that."

"You've always been in my future!"

"I just… I don't know what I was thinking… I just wanted the best for you…"

"You know what," Kurt began, edging closer to the camera. "I learned a lot of things talking to Mason-"

Blaine shot him a quizzical look.

"-Amelia's brother, Mason."

"One of the things I learned from talking to him was that, while I shouldn't hold onto my past, I didn't need to ignore it either. There was silver lining to the suffering I went through Blaine… and that silver lining was _you_. New York is fantastic and all, and I love it here, love it to bits, but I love you _more, _and I'm not going to abandon you for this city. Never."

"What if I don't fit in there, Kurt?" Having trouble meeting Kurt's eyes, he focused on the bed spread beneath him.

"Of course you'll fit in, don't be silly! You belong here as much as I do. And if you don't, well, that's okay! You just need to find the school that bids your calling, and we can work from there."

"Look," Kurt sustained after Blaine remained hush, "I'm scared of the prospect of another few years of separation too. But wherever your heart is, that's where mine is too."

Smiling dopily, he tried to respond to Kurt, but he had significant difficultly forcing his mouth down into a suitable shape for speaking seriously. Before he had to, however, Kurt's phone pinged again, and Kurt very slowly read the text.

_Mason: Kurt, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou._

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed. "It went well, it went well, it went well! Mason! It went well!"

This time Blaine had no need to wipe the dopey smile off of his face, not now, not ever really. Watching Kurt hop around in his chair in giddiness and victory made it too hard to try to force himself to hide it away. Why would he need to now, anyways?

"I wish there was another way to say 'I love you', because I feel like I'm wearing it out," he finally responded.

"That's not possible, "Kurt countered lightheartedly. "And personally I hope we get to that point soon, if that point even exists of course."

"You're on," Blaine returned, a grin lighting his whole face up as he leaned forward. "I am going to tell you 'I love you' so many times that you are going to be _sick_ of it, and I won't even be halfway done."

"Bring it on, Anderson," Kurt said with a beam. "Or shall I say, and yes I am referring to _you specifically_," he paused, savoring the eagerness on Blaine's face, "'bright eyes'?"


End file.
